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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25392082">Merlinus</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arukou/pseuds/Arukou'>Arukou</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Bullet Points (Comics), Marvel (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Avalon Protocol, Doomed Relationship, Implied Character Death, M/M, Pre-Slash</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 12:33:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,866</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25392082</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arukou/pseuds/Arukou</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Before facing the Hulk, Ross does Steve one decent deed. He finds him a new engineer.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Steve Rogers/Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Team Angst</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Merlinus</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This story is a canon divergence from Bullet Points (Earth-70105), a set of five comics in a what-if format diverging from Steve Rogers' attempt at receiving the serum back during the war. If you're unfamiliar with Bullet Points, I highly recommend giving it a read. If, however, you just need a quick summary, Sineala has one <a href="https://sineala.tumblr.com/post/156518230139/bullet-points">here</a> that will do the job nicely.</p><p>All you really need to know from the comics to understand this story is that instead of becoming Captain America, Steve becomes the Iron Man instead (yes, you read that right.) He survives the war, but at great cost to his health.</p><p>I'm setting this in the late 60s, date unspecified, for a couple of reasons. It puts Steve at about the right age, and it sets it against the Space Race and the Vietnam War. That seemed fitting to me because my next step in this what-if is that Tony doesn't get kidnapped in Vietnam because he's here instead. With Steve.</p><p>Enjoy the angst!</p><p>ps. This is unbetaed because I am super, duper tired.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Steve stared out at the White House in the distance, body aching, exhaustion breathing through his rib-cage with each beat of his heart. <em>The battle’s never really over</em>, he thought to himself, only half an ear to Ross. <em>The war to end all wars, and look where we are now. Hunting down some poor sixteen-year-old kid, sending other poor sixteen-year-old kids to die in the jungle. Were we only ever expendable?</em> He used to be able to throw back his shoulders, stand straight and proud, but as Ross enumerates the ways in which Steve would once again throw a punch for good old Uncle Sam, he couldn’t find it in himself to lift out of his slouched posture.</p><p>“I hate to pull you out of semi-retirement for this, but we’re going to need power. I, uh, I know the years have taken their toll, Colonel. We are looking into ways we might be able to… mitigate, yes mitigate, some of the side effects of the armor.” Steve had the distinct impression that Ross’ “mitigation” efforts ere less to ease Steve’s experience with the armor and more to protect the optics of the whole thing; it didn’t exactly look good, sending out a semi-retired colonel who could barely make it up and down stairs to face one of the greatest threats the US had seen in a decade (or so Ross would have Steve believe.) Ross cleared his throat and continues, “We’ve pulled in a consultant since Reed is otherwise occupied. I’d like to introduce you to Anthony Stark.”</p><p>On cue, a young man entered. He was dressed in a tailored charcoal suit, and he had a neatly trimmed moustache; with each step, he bounced on his toes with a youthful enthusiasm Steve couldn’t ever remember feeling, even when he was all of nineteen. “A pleasure and an honor, Colonel,” Stark said, extending a firm handshake. “And please call me Tony.”</p><p>“Stark is one of the brightest scientific minds in a generation, and his company has just taken up the contract for the Iron Man’s maintenance. He’ll be serving the position Reed previously filled, acting as technological point man for you. I believe he has technical details he’d like to discuss with you, and I have a meeting at the Pentagon to get to. You’re welcome to use my office or an empty room on the premises, and needless to say, your conversation should stay beyond the reach of prying ears.”</p><p>Steve saluted as Ross beat a hurried exit, and Tony immediately brightened even more, as though the whole of his being had been clouded over by Ross’ presence. “While I appreciate the general’s offer,” Tony said, “I’ve already got the armor set up in my DC workshop. I’d love for you to come, take a look, and give me your input. We’re working on an accelerated time schedule, so no time like the present if you’re free.”</p><p>“I’m always free these days,” Steve said, only half-jokingly. He was, in the most technical sense, a consultant for the military, but they rarely listened to his opinions anymore. For all that he’d piloted the Iron Man through the War, outside of the armor, most of the higher-ups still saw a scrawny, asthmatic weakling. A few gave his opinions due weight: Danvers always took him seriously, perhaps because she was aware of the pain that came with being underestimated. But on the whole, Steve’s name and the reputation attached to it were the most useful thing about him as far as generals like Ross were concerned. Until now.</p><p>“Wonderful!” Stark beamed. “My car should be waiting at the entrance.” He gestured Steve ahead of him and fell into step as they moved to the elevator. Though Stark easily matched Steve’s stiff pace without any hint of impatience or frustration, there was still something frenetic about him, a restless energy which, if they were perhaps in the safe dark of a discreet establishment, might have advertised something entirely different to Steve.</p><p>“I can’t tell you what an honor it is to work on this project. I’ve admired the Iron Man armor for years. I actually wrote my bachelor’s thesis on the engineering of it. The joining of man and machine! Neural synapses tied into transistors and pneumatics and servos! We’re on the cusp of something amazing, Colonel. An age in which man and technology join as one, to the betterment of both. And not, my hope is, just for warfare. The men coming back from Vietnam now are surviving injuries that often killed men in World War II. They’re missing limbs, experience traumatic brain injuries. Just think how a lighter version of the Iron Man armor could help those men. Or imagine if your automobile could tell you that it sensed another automobile approaching from your blind spot and you could tell it to respond accordingly! With your mind!”</p><p>Stark was certainly a change from Reed. Reed, of course, was just as passionate about science, but his gaze turned to the stars while it seemed that Stark’s was still here on earth with his fellow man. His lively chatter carried them to a black town car pulled up at the curb, which Stark ushered him into before following, signaling to the driver up front. A partition rolled up between them and the driver and they were off to wherever Stark’s workshop might be.</p><p>Blushing slightly, Stark turned to him. “I’m sorry to go on like this. The moment I heard they were searching for a new engineer to work on the Iron Man armor, I completely cleared my schedule. Don’t tell Ross, but I would’ve done it for free if that’s what it took.”</p><p>“I only hope I live up to your expectations, Mr. Stark.”</p><p>“Please, I told you to call me Tony, and I stand by that. Now, I know what requests Ross has made of me, but all due respect to him—” Steve snorted without meaning to. He suspected in Tony’s estimation, that was very little respect indeed “—he’s not the one in the armor. That’s you. So I’d like to know what you need, and I’ll do everything I can to implement your specifications before they deploy you to New York.”</p><p>“Well, it’s been more than a decade since I last donned the armor for a combat situation. I’ve worn it for ceremonies a few times since then, but even that…” Tony has probably seen the reports. He probably knows the state of Steve’s body. “I know with the adrenaline of combat, I’ll probably be able to push through, but I don’t know for how long. And then there’s concerns about collateral damage. This is New York City we’re talking about. I don’t want civilians getting hurt, and if I die, the suit is rigged to explode. Back during the war, that was to keep it from falling into the hands of the enemy, but we’re on American soil right now. I don’t think we need to worry about anyone grabbing it for nefarious purposes. Is there any way we could put pay to the self-destruct protocol?”</p><p>“I’ve thought about both of your concerns quite seriously.” Tony’s bubbling demeanor sobered as he looked Steve dead in the eye. He put his hand on Steve’s knee, seemingly unaware of what he was doing as he treated his words with utmost gravity. “Reed’s notes on your medical files are quite thorough, and if we had more time, I’d design a suit that could be used by a new pilot. I frankly don’t think you should be subjected to this. But no one ever accused the US military of being far-sighted about these sorts of things.” He squeezed Steve’s knee before turning to his briefcase. “We’re here.”</p><p>Steve missed the warmth of Tony’s hand the moment it was gone. Beyond handshakes with dignitaries and politicians, he couldn’t remember the last time another human being had touched him. He’d almost forgotten what it was like to have the warmth and comfort of another living being. When he’d been in better health, there were a few fervent encounters, but always anonymous. Steve couldn’t risk his reputation being tarnished, not when he was already so easily cast aside by the higher-ups. And besides, who would want him, broken and shriveled as his body was? Even masturbation exhausted him anymore, and he’d managed to survive without.</p><p>He shook his head as he clambered slowly and awkwardly out of the car. Strange thoughts to be having. He supposed it had to do with facing his own death. He was sure Tony would do all he could to bolster the Iron Man armor, but in his heart of hearts, Steve knew where this mission was headed. He knew what a last-ditch effort looked like. After all, if Ross truly thought the Iron Man armor was still of use, he would’ve pulled it in on the Vietnam War a long time ago.</p><p>Tony’s workshop was located in a building on the Virginia side of DC. The brick façade was emblazoned with “Stark Industries,” the letters done up in a futuristic font, a star emblazoned in the “A” of “Stark.” To reach the bowels of the building, they passed a series of gates, all of them locked with a fancy key card technology. Perhaps keeping Ross’ warning in mind, Tony didn’t speak as they made their way through the building, passing laboratories and fields of cubicles, production lines and executive offices. In the very heart of the building, Tony ushered him through one final door, on the side of which awaited a cave of wonders the like of which Steve had never seen.</p><p>Tony’s workspace looked thirty years ahead of its time. Huge screens filled the walls, full color emblazoning them all. Tiny reams of tape, no bigger than a quarter, spun in bank after bank of processors. The keyboards at each station were done up in no language Steve could recognize, their array of choices certainly larger than your standard twenty-six letters and other odds and ends. In the corner, a robot suddenly rumbled to live, approaching on heavy treads a tray of tools aloft its tripod structure.</p><p>And in the center of it all was the Iron Man armor. Looking up at it, Steve could see already that it looked significantly different than the last time he’d seen it.</p><p>“I started off with the obvious: weight. I’ve redone the outer plating in an alloy that lightens the total load by 35%. With the bonus of adding that lovely golden sheen. I hope you don’t mind?”</p><p>“You could’a painted it pink if it meant a 35% load reduction. That’s already wonderful!”</p><p>“I’ve revamped the propulsion system, too. It’s more efficient now, so the fuel load is also reduced. More weight reduction. All of your standard artillery has been replaced with Stark products. The best we have to offer, some of them still prototypes. Again, all in the name of lightening your load.”</p><p>Close enough now, Steve raised a reverent hand to the old girl. She looked down on him, her faceplate inscrutable. His beautiful golden coffin. He startled slightly when Tony put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing. Tony’s face was somber again now, also upturned to look the helmet in the eye, as much as he could from four feet below her.</p><p>“Now, for your two concerns. Obviously lightening the weight will help you pilot, but I don’t think that’s enough. Not given what you’re up against. If it were just human men, I think you’d be just fine, but this thing Ross is talking about?” Tony shook his head, and Steve nearly asked what his thoughts were on using such dangerous technology so near human populations. Nearly.</p><p>“So I’ve also installed a new operating system. Think of it as an enhancement of your neurophysio interface. As the machine stands now, you have to multitask your mind into moving different systems independently <em>while</em> fighting your opponent and trying to outmaneuver and outsmart him. That’s a lot to ask, especially with such a dangerous opponent. So using radio waves, I’ve linked in a new control interface which I’ll be operating from here.”</p><p>Steve saw red, perhaps unfairly. No one should be taking on this burden unnecessarily, and more selfishly, the old girl was Steve’s. He didn’t want to give her up while he still breathed. He started to object: “Now hold on just a—”</p><p>Tony held up a hand, silently asking Steve for patience. “You’ll still have completely control of the armor’s movements. I promise. But think of it this way. Our fighter pilots only very rarely fight one-man, right? Usually there’s two: one to pilot, one to monitor the skies and fire the weapons systems. Sometimes there’s even more. Sure, there are one-man planes out there, but they’re much more dangerous because the pilot has to do so much multitasking. So I’m asking you to think of me as your co-pilot. I’ll be able to speak to you and you’ll be able to speak to me, and moreover, I’ll follow your orders to the T.”</p><p>Damn the man for talking sense. Against his fiery temper, Steve felt reason warring and winning. “So you’d be in charge of weapons?”</p><p>“Not quite. I’ll be in charge of…let’s call it interfacing. It’ll be my job to make your commands smoother, your movements faster. I’ll also be watching the systems on your six, where the helmet can’t turn or see.”</p><p>“Through radio waves?”</p><p>“I know it seems like it’ll slow you down, but this is the latest. The military doesn’t even have these connectivity speeds yet. Fractions of a second between you and me. And megabytes of data! So much more than has traveled previously at this speed and in this package size.”</p><p>“Fractions of a second are the difference between life and death.”</p><p>“Which is why you’ll still have complete control.” Mollified, Steve turned back to the old girl, tracing her fresh rivets.</p><p>“And the self-destruct function?”</p><p>“Ah. Well, that’s the other reason to have me keyed into the system. In the event of your death, rather than self-destruct, the armor will switch to remote piloting. I won’t have great control of it, not the way you do, but I’ll be able to do enough to get it out of danger and direct it back to base. I’m calling it the Avalon protocol.”</p><p>Steve huffed out another gentle laugh. “Does that make me the Once and Future King?”</p><p>He meant it as a morbid joke, the kind you make when you’re in a line of work that puts you in elbow-bumping proximity with death. But when he turned to Tony, he saw that youthful face painted with the first lines of strife and anguish that Steve had seen so often in young soldiers. The first taste of the ash of the battlefield. “In a way,” Tony whispered, looking down into Steve’s eyes with a fierce and devastating intensity. “I confess, one of my thoughts was that if I could get you back quickly enough, the doctors might be able to save you. If, for instance, it was a heart attack that took you, they might be able to do something. Something to revive you.”</p><p>Caught up in the fervent hush of Tony’s words, Steve felt his lips part in awe. Tony’s hope was so bright, his anguish so painfully open and evident, that Steve almost believed in this chance Tony wanted to give him. They stared at each other for many moments longer, the gravity between them almost overwhelming, until Tony at last drew a shuddering breath and ran an anxious hand through his hair.</p><p>“On the one hand, I think a test run wouldn’t be amiss, but I’m also concerned with you hurting yourself before the battle. It’s your call, Colonel.”</p><p>Steve felt the ache in his ribs and his lungs, the stiffness permanently hindering his hips, and knew he only had the one last ride in him. He shook his head. “If you’re to be Merlin to my Arthur, I’ll put my fate in your hands. I trust you, Tony.”</p><p>Tony’s next breath was shuddering again, his eyes too bright, and Steve could see the kiss coming. He welcomed it and wondered what might have become of this in a different life, in a kinder life. He’d known Tony only a few hours, but somehow, he felt as though he’d known him since the beginning of time, as if this very moment was destined to happen again and again. Their kiss was a soft one, a gentle one, and it ended as easily as it had started, Tony now crying in earnest.</p><p>Steve gave him the best smile he could muster, a weathered, mirthless thing which had long since forgotten the kind of warmth Tony offered. And then he turned to leave. At the door, he paused. “Ross said the plane was at 0600 tomorrow. I’ll see you there. And Tony?” He looked over his shoulder, watching this beautiful man crack further, wishing he could save him this first painful scar of war. “If you’re Merlin to my Arthur, you might as well call me Steve.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I initially planned to do this as a comic, but I've been really struggling with everything going on in the world, so the comic fizzled out after one page. Had it been a comic, I would have continued into the fight with Tony taking charge of the armor after the Hulk does his worst. However, since I didn't do that, you are free to imagine a happier ending. Isn't that great? Heh. Heh heh. *sweatdrop* Anyway, you can find me on <a href="https://arukou-arukou.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a> if you'd like to scream at me about this. Or about nerdy things in general.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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